


The Sound of Your Name

by theatremusicbookworm



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 21:45:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1999005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theatremusicbookworm/pseuds/theatremusicbookworm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Jaime/Brienne fic based loosely off the song "Rosemary" from <i>How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sound of Your Name

She’d finally sent for him. Jaime walked with purpose to the Queen’s chamber’s. Cersei hadn’t contacted him since they had been together in the sept, and his cock throbbed for her. He’d spent much of his time trying to retrain his left hand to handle a sword as well as his right had, spending much of his time alone otherwise. His father was not happy with him, and thus painful to speak with, and Tyrion was locked in his cell, but then so was she… yet he’d visited Brienne twice. _Hers is not really a cell though,_ he’d tried to reassure himself. And yet he’d walked the miles of flagstone from one end of the castle to the other to see her. _I’ve grown used to her presence. Surely that’s all._ And yet he’d saved her from the bear pit. He’d dreamed of her more too… Her sapphire eyes haunted his dreams…  
Cersei’s door loomed up ahead of him. He all but ran his last few steps. He didn’t bother to knock, instead pushing the heavy oak door open and slipping inside. She sat on the bed, her back to him, brushing out her golden mane of hair. The gentle waves spilled softly over her back and shoulders. _So beautiful… so familiar…_ She turned slightly and looked over her shoulder at him. Her calculating eyes swept over his face, and body, but came to rest on the stump of his right arm. _She’s disgusted by it._ Little surprise. He was too really. He thought she might have had the decency to hide her revulsion thought… but then when had she ever hidden anything from him? She rose from the bed and set her brush on a table.  
“You came.” She did not smile.  
“I did.” Slowly, she approached him, only coming to a halt when she was a foot from him.  
“I’ve missed you, the old you.” She caressed his cheek.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, grabbing her hand. She furrowed her brow.  
“You’ve changed… but I think… I can change you back…” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. _Have I changed?_ Jaime asked himself. _Yes… I suppose I have._ So much had happened since he’d left King’s Landing. He’d been a prisoner of war, been a hostage, met Brienne… _Do I want things to go back to the way they were?_ He’d lost a hand, but gained a friend. He’d fought a bear… Cersei pressed her lips to his, pulling him close to her. _This isn’t right…_ It was that moment, in that kiss, that Jaime’s mind began to wander. What would it be like to kiss _her._ Perhaps it hadn’t been Cersei he’d longed for at all. Her name came to his mind like a melody. He pushed his sister away.  
“Brienne,” he murmured. Cersei stared at him appalled.  
“What?” she hissed. He laughed, rubbing is cheek.  
“Brienne!” he exclaimed.  
“What? That cow from Tarth?” Jaime felt lightheaded, almost giddy. It had been her all along. Cersei was right, he had changed. He spun around, clutching his head and laughing, looking positively alarming. “You’re mad,” Cersei exclaimed, wide-eyed.  
“Can’t you hear it?” Jaime asked suddenly, turning back to his sister.  
“What?” Her tone wavered.  
“Her name… it’s like music on the air…” Now Cersei was laughing.  
“You are absolutely mad!” _Perhaps I am mad!_ He thought. _Mad with passion… with-_  
“Love…” he whispered.  
“What?” his sister hissed.  
“I think… I love her.” Cersei scoffed.  
“How could you? That hideous beast? She’s almost more of a man than you are.”  
“I wouldn’t be standing here now if it weren’t for her.”  
“But you might still have your right hand.” He only stared around the room, his thoughts were only of Brienne. _So strong and honorable… so chivalrous… her beautiful blue eyes… her rare, yet somehow charming smile._ “Jaime are you even listening to me?” Cersei’s voice cut through his thoughts like a blade.  
“Sorry what was that?” he asked, slightly dazed. Her green eyes pierced through him.  
“I _asked_ why you came here if you were only interested in that ogre?”  
“I- I didn’t realize until…”  
“Until?” Jaime raised his fingers pensively to his lips. Cersei sneered. “Do you mean to tell me that _my kiss_ made you realize you had feelings for that- that- _thing_?” Jaime only grinned idiotically. He turned to the door and pushed it open once more. “Jaime! Where are you going? Come back here!” Her brother practically skipped down the hall, his sister’s cries far behind him. She didn’t matter anymore. Only Brienne…  
Her name seemed to sing on the air. Brienne, a song waiting to burst from inside him, like an explosion, burning him up like wildfire. Jaime could here her name on every breath he took as he hurried up the stairs and along another hall. It welled inside him until he found himself whispering her name.  
“Brienne… Brienne of Tarth… Brienne the Beauty…” _What will I do when I reach her?_ Jaime imagined himself throwing open the door of her tower chamber. _What would it be like to kiss those plump lips? Would she let me?_  
Then her door was there, right before him. He all but ran the last few steps. A pair of guardsmen stood on either side.  
“I wish to see the Lady Brienne,” he told them breathlessly. The two exchanged a curious glance, but stepped aside for the Kingslayer. He didn’t bother to knock. The door creaked loudly on its hinges, announcing his arrival for him. There she was. She’d been supplied with a blue dress. Although the garment did not suit her build, the color couldn’t have been more perfect. As she turned to find him in the doorway her brilliant blue eyes widened at his appearance.  
“Brienne!” Her name rolled off his tongue so easily, as if it had been waiting there. Her brow furrowed.  
“Ser Jaime? What are you doing here?”  
“Brienne, something wonderful has happened!” His feet carried him to her. He took her hand in his own and squeezed. She glanced down at their joined hands and back at him in confusion. They’d never been this familiar with one another.  
“I- Are you drunk?” She took a step away from him. He laughed as she studied him in concern.  
“Drunk with love I think.” She tore her hand away, almost appalled.  
“What are you talking about?” _How do I explain myself?_ Jaime began to wonder.  
“Your name… it just… I can’t get it off my mind. It’s like music, reverberating through my head. Brienne… Brienne… Brienne… Don’t you hear it?” She’d have laughed if she wasn’t so concerned.  
“I don’t as a matter of fact.” She crossed her arms. Jaime reached for her but she backed further away.  
“Brienne… I just… I can’t get it off my mind… I can’t get _you_ off my mind.” Her breathing hitched.  
“Have you lost your mind?” He laughed.  
“Perhaps I have… but does it matter?” She bit her lip… _Her luscious pink lips…_  
“I wonder what it would be like to kiss those lips…”  
“What?” Jaime blinked. He hadn’t realized he had said it allowed.  
“I-” _There’s no backing out now._ “I said…” He approached her once more, this time reaching for her cheek. Her eyes were locked on his, fearful, yet entranced. He caressed her jaw, running his thumb over her bottom lip. “What would it be like to kiss those lips…”  
“Jaime,” her voice was faint, almost a plea. The sound of his own name stirred something within him. He drew in closer, his lips barely brushing hers.  
“Say it again,” he whispered throatily.  
“Jaime,” she moaned. “Jai-” The rest was lost beneath his mouth. He kissed her so fiercely that she stumbled a few steps back, suddenly pinned against the stone tower wall.  
“Brienne” he whispered against her lips. “Brienne… Brienne… Brienne the Beauty…” He mumbled her name with each kiss, his lips finding her jaw line, her throat, her collar. As he worked his way back up her neck he felt her quiver beneath him. He looked up to find her laughing, tears glimmering, clinging to her lashes.  
“Ticklish?” He asked with a grin.  
“No,” she brushed his cheek with her finger. “It’s just… I hear it now.”

**Author's Note:**

> It's bad when you can't even do to a high school drama production without your mind straying to your OTP.


End file.
